When despair grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting for their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
— Wendell Berry, The Peace of Wild Things
I got the call on a rainy day shortly after returning from my semester abroad. I didn't recognize the number, and we were in the middle of a used Kia lot, car shopping for my brother. The "859" area code told me it wasn't a telemarketer, so I ducked into my dad's car to take the call.
"Hi, Hannah." At first I didn't recognize the slightly gravelly voice, but he continued without a reply from me. "Greg Bandy, here. I just wanted to be the first to congratulate you."
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